Oblique (Worm YAAPT)
by PseudoSim
Summary: Question: What happens when an Administration Shard pings off both a Skill Thief and a Tinker that can make anything? Answer: Something that is greater than the sum of its parts. One Shot


**Oblique (Worm / YAAPT)**

—

How I started out? Well… I guess I can say everything started off… simple, innocuous.

You have to understand, in the beginning, I hadn't a clue about what was going on— frankly, I thought I was going insane for a bit and…

No, you're not wrong, I _did_ lose my mind for a bit. But what can I say, I only had something like… Three or five specializations at the time? Yeah, that definitely didn't help.

But anyway, after I… well, I'd rather not talk about that. But you understand how it is. Anyway, after that there was almost always something at the back of my mind; nagging at me like an itch. A stray thought here, an idea there. Never anything substantive, though. Early on I tried to express what I saw, drawing things out and such. But the concepts had always been incomplete, unfinished and just out of reach… Then I stumbled into the fight on the Fourth. You know, the one where your boyfriend got his ass handed to him by the two clowns?

Oh, you have no idea what I'm talking about? Right. Sure. And I have a bridge in Siberia to sell you.

...It was such a stupid thing, though. Uber and Leet, they were always just… there. They were in the bay, but they were no one. They didn't push drugs, they didn't violently espouse a racist ideology, and they didn't discriminate based on what race you were. They were just… there.

But of course, of all people, it was them that gave me my first specialization. Well, them along with the Protectorate and Ward tinkers that were roped into whatever their act had been.

Honestly, I couldn't say what it was that did it, I still don't know for certain, but during that fight something just… clicked. And after the fight had moved on and it was safe to come out… a tiny piece of micro circuitry here, a busted gravity thruster there… it hadn't been much, far less than what even you would be able to work with, that's for sure. But it was enough. The ideas gained clarity, the concepts became more focused.

It wasn't much, but those bits of broken tech were enough for me to establish a connection. The first of many, and a taste of what I could do.

A taste? Yeah, thinking back that's a good comparison. Just a taste had been enough...

-I-

Arms straining, I grit my teeth and with a back wrenching heave, uncoupled the power siphon from its socket and dropped it; letting the heavy cable hit the scaffolding grate with a clang and fall to two stories to the warehouse floor. It had taken me three days to make that coupling and from the sound of its landing I knew it was ruined, but it didn't matter.

Taking only the barest of moments to catch my breath, I slammed shut the thick cap that sealed the socket and absently wiped the sweat off my brow with a shammy rag.

Only a moment, though, I couldn't stop, couldn't hesitate. No time. Absently, in the semi reflective surface of the seal cap, I saw I'd left a long streak of black grease across my face. I didn't wipe it off though, there was no time.

-I-

But yeah, from that point forward everything just sort of… _escalated_.

The ideas turned into designs, the thoughts into instructions, and after having them at the back of my mind for so long… I couldn't _not_ use them.

Of course, it hadn't taken long for me to get consumed in tinkering.

School? What school? When I told my dad I was a Tinker and needed him to get me X, Y, and Z I don't think he could have been happier. Although, what with the war between the E88 and ABB just ramping up, I like to think he was just happy to keep me safe up at home.

I'm sorry, but no. Just... no. Speaking plainly he saw the Protectorate and PRT as another gang in the city and from a certain standpoint that is essentially what they are. At least to the people on the ground, those who have to live in the middle of it.

But yeah, I think he was just happy to keep me occupied with tinkering and I… I don't even know if it occurred to him that I would go out when he said not to, even if he just wanted to keep me safe. I told him what I needed, but no matter how he tried I always needed more than he could bring back.

If I remember right it was around the time I started going out to scavenge the junk yards and strip peoples cars that the third gang of the triad came into play. Although, it certainly took its time getting off its bloated ass to try and quell the fighting and bring things back to the status quo. Maybe she was hoping to let the gangs kill each other off.

...Huh? Merchants? Hell no. Why would you think I was talking about them? No, I'm talking about the assholes staying safe and tight in their tower and in the middle of the bay. Remember what I said about the common people? I'm talking about the PRT and the Protectorate!

I don't care! They didn't do shit while everything was going to hell! I may have been reduced to a hermit at that point, but I was a good listener and I was there when Dad needed to vent. And yeah, looking back at things gives one a pretty good perspective of just how little they did for the city. Not that it matters now.

Honestly, when dad told me that the National Guard had been deployed and the city placed under martial law I don't even think I was surprised… Well, maybe I was, even with Dad's rants I was more focused on tinkering than politics and I can't remember some of those days too well.

The fugues. I've heard some can lose hours at a time, well I've lost whole days. It's better now, but in those days I don't know if I'd be here if Dad wasn't there. He kept me fed and watered when I was too focused on work to do anything else, but then… yeah.

Brockton may be fairly mild climate wise, but locally we have our own joke about the shitty weather. And when it rains… well, we should have expected it to pour. But C'mon, seriously, with everything getting as bad as it was I'd have thought that even the Merchants would have the good sense for once to not throw more gas onto the fire, but no. And of course, they came out en masse, like cockroaches, or vultures flying in to pick at a corpse… they'd probably be picking the meat off the bones right now if their leadership hadn't been wiped out.

Oh, who am I kidding? M criticizing the Merchants? Rich, considering I was there as well, sneaking around in the first iteration of my Exoskeletal Enhanced Mobility System wielding the bastardization of a sledgehammer and my first attempts at gravity tech. Thinking back the quality was laughable, crude beyond anything I would deem acceptable these days. But I'd made it, I had created them and I wanted to use them. I _had_ to use them.

For all I'd dreamed of being a Hero as a little kid, though, I hadn't been there to help; I hadn't been there to protect, I hadn't been there to restore peace… I'd been there to pillage and plunder, nothing more and nothing less.

Don't give me that. I know what I was doing. I was no better than the Merchants in those early days, going out to scavenge and get my next fix.

I went out on those nights to help myself and scratch the itch, but after Dad hadn't come back for a bit...

-I-

I made a quick final check of the seal and slid down the ladder to the ground floor; turning on my heel as soon as I was on the solid surface and sprinting over to a jury rigged command interface terminal to initiate the bootup sequence. Only then did let myself have a moment to breathe, to center myself, before crossing to the other side of the old building and pulling open a locker.

-I-

Bakuda was the first one I went after. I'm not sure when exactly, you should be able to pull up some reports and figure it out. Nevertheless, she'd needed to be stopped and had caused more noncombatant casualties than any other cape since the gangs declared open season on each other. It was the right thing to do… Well, that's what I'd told myself anyhow. When I'd heard that the union building had been caught in some kind of time bubble… Again, in retrospect, I wasn't in the best place at the time.

You know she didn't even notice me breaking into her lab? She was working so hard on her 'masterpiece' that she didn't even notice the people forced to listen to her insane ranting had fled. I'm pretty sure it was only when I was winding back for the second swing that she even realized what was happening. She tried to beg and bribe me to let her go and when that didn't work she tried to take me with her. Of course, the first hit shattered much of her spine and, well, you could say it was like she was fighting gravity.

Yeah ok, that was pretty bad.

Then next up was Squealer. After getting a connection to Bakuda's specialization I'm fairly certain I stabilized a bit and recognized that the tweaked out Tinker and the technicals she'd been supplying the gang was making things too difficult for the 'Guard… or I might have wanted her specialization to help me get around faster, I honestly couldn't say for certain. What I do know, though, was that she was definitely more of a challenge to get to, if only because of the labor she had with her to help with heavy lifting. Ultimately though… well, you have the report of what I did in here. I got what I wanted.

After that, things had settled into something of a tense stalemate while the each side licked their wounds. Things had been peaceful… for a little bit at least.

But of course, when it rains it pours and the clusterfuck of Lung Vs. Kaiser round one happened… did anyone ever found out who leaked Kaiser's location?

No. Of course not. Because why kill someone like that when you have the change but instead try and capture them. Really, I'd applaud you for still supporting their incompetence if a third of the city being burned down wasn't the result.

But yeah, attacking Kaiser when he's supposedly undergoing medical treatment… not sure how that could have added up in Lung's mind. Especially considering Med-Hall is a pharmaceutical company, not a hospital. Hey though, at least Lung got the right place, who could have thought though that the CEO whose company employed a sizable chunk of the city was a Neo-Nazi who liked crucifying black people, though… Well, except for the PRT of course, the metadata on their files made it pretty clear they knew who he was even if they tried to alter it.

Not really. I'd say it's more of a crime that they didn't take him down when they knew who he was.

Unwritten rules? Useful in concept, but nothing more than a pretty pretense for letting people slide and inevitably destroy a city. Interesting how Super Villains cling to it like a shield, despite ignoring it whenever they feel like it. I mean, back then, if someone had asked me if it was possible for things to get worse I might've laughed at them...

-I-

The stink of sweat filled the air as I stripped off my grungy coveralls, jeans, and threadbare shirt. Throwing and kicking each article aside, I reached into the locker and pulled out a long, glimmering one piece body suit. I stepped into it and pulled it up, the seam at the back seamlessly fusing shut, tightening to conform to my body, then inflating a bit to put me under pressure. With any luck, it would help me survive the G-forces I was about to put myself under.

Chancing a moment to comb my fingers through my hair and tie it back, three long beeps echoed through the warehouse from the half dead intercom system and interrupted me. There was not time.

Wrapping the tie as best I could, I sprinted back across to the terminal; nearly tripping in my haste. My fingers danced across the keyboard, inputting commands until a final confirmation prompt appeared on the screen. For a second I hesitated, my finger hovering over the enter key before a muffled crash from outside made the decision for me. Pressing the key I initiated AOIFE's boot sequence.

Immediately the cooling system in my jury-rigged server farm began ramping up as she unloaded and unpacked into Atlas's control core.

-I-

I will give him this though, too his credit Skidmark did go straight for the kill in the best way he could. If Lung were anyone else that is, even I knew at that point that a house getting thrown at him wouldn't do all that much. But points for effort?

No, I saw those videos as well and that's why I even bothered with the points for effort because it takes a real idiot to just stand around laughing while giving a regenerator time to heal and ramp up.

He was… what? Twelve feet tall when he immolated Skidmark?

Oh, well I think my point still stands… I think. Sixteen feet though, right off the bat that's bigger than when he and Kaiser fought the first time so did the PRT really think they could handle him this time?

Just stop. I couldn't give a shit what Assmaster thought would work. His overinflated ego has done enough damage by that point that backup should have been called in the moment reports came in about the two fighting, not halfway through.

Sorry. I'll try and think positive and not get angry over my city being burned down so... Hey, they may have burned down another swath of the city in their fight, caused untold million in damages and displaced thousands of people from their homes, but at least I left with a few parts of the suits you tried to send in.

No, not really. Well, the first one, yeah, that one did go up before I could get access. Thanks to what I learned though, I got to the second before it could melt and made off with a few sizable pieces. Your stuff is put together really well though, so it wasn't much. But… it was enough.

And that, as they say, is that… That's my story, that's how things happened and why we're here, now...

-I-

Stepping away from the terminal, I turned to look up at the ultimate fruits of my months of labor.

Standing nineteen feet tall, clad in unadorned, unfurnished and unpainted silver alloy, it was a tank on two legs with thick arms to hold its armament. Humanoid, sans a head. It was admittedly a bit crude in comparison to something like what Armsmaster, Kid Win or Dragons could create. But lacking full-size fabrication facilities, I'd made do with the best I could make while forsaking a little polish.

It was mine, built it with my blood sweat and tears. And with it, I would be a Hero.

Finally allowing myself a moment, I stared at it a bit longer while also checking over that everything was in place. The hammer, an upscaled descendant of the weapon I'd first went out with; The cannon, a chain fed gun I'd assembled to take advantage of Bakuda's specialization; And the— The alarm blared again. No time.

Grabbing a handhold, I clambered up the mech and threw open the thickly armored cockpit to strap myself in. Lights, cameras, and controls initiated as I strapped in and the hatch hissed shut. Screens flickered on on the inside of the hatch, displaying the inside of the warehouse that had been my home the past few months as AOIFE finished the start-up sequence.

It was time to prove myself.

"Let's go."

Localized gravity reversed, boosters ignited, and I blasted through the roof of my workshop; the shield that had barely managed to hold back Leviathans tidal waves finally collapsing, no longer needed.

"Ready or not, here I come."

—

A/N: Holy hell, I've had this in my Worm folder for a hella long time. But hey, better late than never.


End file.
